


Vanity Fair(ly Bestowed)

by synonym4life



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack, Humor, M/M, Malfart, POV Narcissa Black Malfoy, Past Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Malfoy, maybe the start of polyamory Narcissa/Lucius/Gilderoy - you never know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-12 00:32:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13535853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/synonym4life/pseuds/synonym4life
Summary: Lucius Malfoy Lockhart and his husband Gilderoy Lockhart Malfoy's pretend (or is it?) marriage isn't quite as believable as they'd like it to be. That is one of their problems - the hair is the other.





	Vanity Fair(ly Bestowed)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gracie137](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracie137/gifts).



> This is for Gracie because she has been dealing with a lot of shit right now ( _khm_ a human piece of shit _khm_ ), so I hope this cheers you up at least a little bit. <3 There is sadly no Malfart baby in here but maybe a promise of one?
> 
> Also, unbetaed because I simply couldn't be bothered.

The photo in front of Narcissa’s eyes flashed in vivid colours. Two familiar men graced the cover; one beaming with an overly-enthusiastic pearl-white smile and the other curling his lips into a tight-pinched smirk.

The Daily Prophet had upgraded their paper and the photos were no longer sluggishly looping through black and white frames; all the pages now boasted colourful captivating images. In her opinion, the innovation team was either completely desensitized or they were all colour-blind because the brightness and contrast of the new fast-moving images were sure to send a person with sensory epilepsy into a seizure. Even her eyes hurt and she’d only read one article.

Narcissa lowered the paper to the table allowing her eyes to gradually refocus on the two men sat opposite her. They were the same men as the ones in the Prophet, except that now neither was smiling or smirking — both were frowning at the paper between them. Narcissa sighed. When Gilderoy and Lucius had married and Gilderoy had come to live at the Manor they had to subscribe to two copies of The Prophet per issue since Gilderoy had insisted on saving all the cut-outs of his photos into his album while also stacking the ‘unharmed’ copies into a special trunk. Narcissa suspected they would have to get him another (bigger) one by the end of the year.

“They still don’t believe us,” Lucius said, his mouth turned down in dissatisfaction. “I don’t know what else to do to make them—”

“I’m glad they recognize that I’m the one with better hair,” Gilderoy proclaimed self-satisfaction strong in his voice as his previous frown smoothed out.

“They do not!” Lucius turned his head to his husband of three months while he proudly swept his long blond hair back over his shoulder. “We’ve gone through this a hundred times. It is more than obvious that my hair is far superior. In length, in shine, in colour, in texture. It is better in any and every way it even _can_ be better.”

“Lies!” Gilderoy exclaimed while exhaling dramatically. Lucius turned bodily to face his husband completely.

“Gilderoy,” he said in a low tone. “You know I like your hair. You know I like to-” he lowered his voice even more, “lavish it with my attention when we...lay together.” He threw an apologetic look at Narcissa. As if she hadn’t known _that_ was happening. Fake marriage or not it was hard to miss the benefits the two men reaped from it.

“However,” Lucius’s voice was stronger now, “the fact remains that, should I have to choose which one of us was to go bald, it would undoubtedly be you, Gilderoy.”

Lockhart’s mouth fell open in disbelief.

Narcissa gave the smallest of sighs, pouring some more milk into her tea. Naturally, the sound of her exasperation was ignored like countless times before. The newly-weds’ favourite theme to argue over was the degree of their vanity and, when they got going, there was no stopping them. She took a sip just as Gilderoy slammed his palm flat onto the table.

“Ha!” he shouted. “See, my dear Luce, that is _your_ opinion. But the Prophet clearly states my hair is better.”

Lucius’s lips, which were already halfway to a sneer when Lockhart called him Luce, settled firmly into the expression by the end of the sentence. “Pray tell me, where exactly they say that?”

Gilderoy pulled the paper towards himself immediately finding the sentence that would, without doubt, end up in one of his collages, and read, “ Lucius Malfoy Lockhart - ah, how I love the sound of that!” Gilderoy sighed with delight. “Lucius Malfoy Lockhart, whose hair could easily grace the Leprechaun Locks’ Hair Potions products, and Gilderoy Lockhart Malfoy, who was surely asked to model for Sleekeazy’s numerous times...” he trailed off without having even read the whole sentence, looking between Lucius and Narcissa triumphantly.

“What in Merlin’s name does that line prove?” Lucius was about to cross his arms defiantly when he seemed to remember that Malfoys didn’t simply _cross their arms._ Not even when they took another man’s last name to salvage their reputation and assets. He let his arms fall limp into his lap.

“Well, obviously,” Lockhart said rolling his eyes, “Sleekeazy’s is far superior to Leprechaun Locks. And since they associate me with the former, and you with the latter, it so follows that my hair is superior to yours!” He smiled, showing his white teeth and happily reached for a blueberry muffin. He took a large bite smearing a blueberry on his chin.

There was nothing that bothered Narcissa as much as Gilderoy’s table manners. Not the fact that she had had to divorce her still-beloved now ex-partner, not the fact that Gilderoy and Lucius’s marriage had been slipping into something more than a pretend salvage-my-reputation-and-my-assets relationship, not the fact that Gilderoy was now as much an owner of the Manor as she, the ex-wife, was. None of that could compete with his atrocious table manners.

He never failed to try eating food with his hands, if at all possible — sometimes when impossible. Narcissa had once seen him taking a dumpling out of his soup with his fingers. Not to mention that he always stirred tea with such vigour and velocity that his teaspoon clinked against the teacup incessantly sloshing the tea over the sides. _Teacup_ , she almost snorted out loud at her own thoughts. She threw the giant mug on the table a disapproving look; that was more of a bucket than a tea cup. _And_ it had Lockart’s face on it; a face that blushed whenever hot tea was poured into the mug...

Gilderoy’s habits, much like Gilderoy himself, were preposterous, and yet, childishly endearing.

In fact, Lucius wasn’t much better himself she observed as he heatedly contradicted Gilderoy’s conclusion about their hair. They didn’t look like they’ll be stopping anytime soon. Narcissa sighed again, this time louder, though no more hopeful that subtlety would do the work.

Gilderoy had Lucius’s hand pressed forcibly against his hair, “Lucius, feel it. Feel the lush, my luscious Legolas.”

Lucius was already opening his mouth to retort, when Narcissa cut him off calmly but clearly, “You two could just let the Prophet catch you arguing about your hair. No one would ever claim a self-absorbed lovers’ quarrel like this isn’t convincing.”

They both froze. Lucius’s hand slowly slipped off the top of Gilderoy’s head, slid down the side of his face and bumped his shoulder on the way down, before Lucius caught himself, pulled his hand towards him and used it as a polite barrier between a delicate throat-clearing cough and his company.

“I’m sorry. This was...rather unseemly.” Lucius didn’t look the slightest bit ashamed at his lack of propriety.

Narcissa gave them both a hard look before leaning back in her chair and said, offhandedly, “I think you two should have a child together.”

Lucius choked. “Wh-” coughs overwhelmed him, “what?!”

“It’s quite simple darling. People don’t believe your matrimony. I think you should convince them of your undying love by having a child together.” She reached for a biscuit, took a small bite, chewed it and added, “You know how people are; a child and they believe in the couple’s love.”

Gilderoy was looking between them perplexed. “A child? I’ve always wanted an heir.”

Lucius gave him a look before turning to Narcissa to whisper — which was quite unnecessary since everyone could still hear him perfectly fine — “Narcissa, darling. With his _genes_?”

She gave him a beatific smile. “Worse things have happened to the Malfoy family than some harmless dimwittedness.”

"Excuse me?” Gilderoy puffed out his chest. “I’ll have you know I am perfectly clear-witted!”

“Of course you are, love,” said Lucius, laying his arm on top of Gilderoy’s, squeezing it lightly.

Though Narcissa could see plenty of exasperation in his eyes, she could also see the tendrils of affection that had been slowly but steadily sneaking into Lucius’s eyes since the day of their marriage. Dim-witted, simple-minded and thick-headed, though Gilderoy Lockhart was, Narcissa supposed there were other qualities one could love but the mind. Despite Gilderoy hiding these qualities rather exceptionally, she was sure he possessed at least a few. Then again, she was most likely better off not knowing.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I love comments! Wiiii!


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